


Excuse me? May I help you?

by Ziven



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Reality|AR, Lemon, M/M, Malik in a Suit, Multi, Office Activities, PWP, Post-Canon, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziven/pseuds/Ziven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Post canon, AR, M/M, Lemony] What business could Malik and Bakura possibly have to handle together...? -Angstshipping, Malik Ishtar x Ryou; Thiefshipping, Malik Ishtar x Yami Bakura; Tornshipping, Ryou Bakura x Malik Ishtar x Yami Bakura-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excuse me? May I help you?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arostine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arostine/gifts).



**Excuse me? May I help you?**

" _Well, well_ ," the raspy voice said. Brown eyes traversed the table to land on the man sitting behind the wooden desk in before him.

Malik tried his hardest not to sneer while he was on the job. It was unprofessional, and Ishizu had quite a number of appointments due that day. He wouldn't want to ruin any of her guests' opinions about their family business, and if there was a single person good for ruining anything, it was Bakura.

"I see you decided to take over your host's body today."

"Why not? It's just as much mine with which to do as I please."

Malik was still filling out paperwork; he really needed to move some of it to the file room. Unfortunately, he didn't feel motivated to rise up and walk around and with Bakura present, he liked the barrier that the desk provided.

Without looking up he said, "So you just decided to take a trip to our office, on the opposite side of Domino? On a month where we _happened_ to be in the country and in _this_ city? Those things just happened to coincide with each other?" Malik was unable to keep his tongue from coating each word in sarcasm.

"I came here to see you."

"I don't want to see you," Malik answered coolly, licking his thumb to turn a page. Fidgeting, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his concentration on the file in his hands. Bakura could have been planning anything, and it made him nervous. His suit had begun to feel uncomfortable, and it was only because _he_ was here. Malik had been fine before he'd had any visitors. He shifted, straightening the lapel on his black coat and put away his work so that he could fiddle with his tie.

"Of course you do. I came all the way here. Surely you can take a lunch break."

"I'll only talk to Ryou."

"Oh, I'm hurt," Bakura said, his voice dry. Arms folded across his chest, Malik knew that he was at the very least unhappy.

The Egyptian wanted to shrug his shoulders just to add insult to injury, but he knew his limitations. Instead, Malik said nothing, finally rising from his seat to get into the file room to his left. What other words could there be for a spirit he wasn't speaking to? It only took him a moment to find the proper cabinets and drawers, and when he returned to desk there was a horrified Bakura waiting for him –except it wasn't, and Malik noticed the differences instantly.

He couldn't help his smile. "Ryou," he sighed, enveloping the white haired boy in his arms.

Ryou visibly relaxed when he saw Malik. "I was wondering where he dropped me this time," he said. His voice was feather-light. "There's usually a method….to the madness, but this threw me off. I don't know where I am."

"I'm working here this week," Malik answered. "Rishid's got the travel pass, as we call it. Ishizu and I have another client here, and a lot of offers since word's gotten around that the exhibit's back in town." He sighed heavily. "I'm still not sure how he found us..."

Ryou was still obviously adjusting to his surroundings. Malik had to let him go, so that he could turn around and get a good look at the place.

"…I'm interrupting you at work?"

"Not quite. It's not as though you're the one who made it all the way out here."

"Did he want something from you?"

"Probably, but we're not talking right now."

But he was talking to Ryou, and that was why there weren't even another full five seconds before the two of them were pressed together, his suit's material crunching loudly against Ryou's striped shirt and jeans. Malik couldn't explain why he felt such a desperate urge to accost Ryou at that particular moment, but once his mouth began moving it wouldn't stop and his hands couldn't keep themselves away from Ryou, either. Of course, the victim of his affections was more startled than he'd been when he'd realized where he was.

"Malik," Ryou called cautiously, and he would have turned his head to look behind them for intruders but Malik was holding him steady—more neck for him. "You're going to get fired…" his voice was still a bit scared sounding and wispy, and Malik didn't like that one bit. That wasn't Ryou.

"Don't worry about that." After all, how could Malik be fired from a business that he partly owned?

They ended up in the file room. Although it was filled with cabinets it was only a little cramped, and had enough open ground for them to have breathing space between them. Ryou's back was being pressed again the drawer handles, but Marik hadn't heard any complaints; he _liked_ it—and who could blame him, having to get used to Bakura? But that wasn't important. Ryou was doing this shuddering breath-thing and it made Malik's knees _tremble_ every time he heard it.

"…you're wearing a suit," Ryou said as though he had just realized it, breaking their current embrace to run slender fingers across Malik's collarbone and onto his clothing. The touch was so light that Malik barely felt it, and somehow he felt even more turned on than just seconds before.

Malik couldn't help his smirk. "You have to know that I'm all business, don't you?"

Ryou's eyes held a bright spark for just a moment. "Will you be about business when the suit comes off, then?"

Malik couldn't help but feel proud. That was his job, and he was good at it: good at making Ryou forget where he was— _who_ he was—or what he was doing.

Their lips comforted each other for a time before Ryou got what he wanted. He was trying his hardest to keep his ears open for noises outside, but everything else was being drowned out by Ryou's breaths. With those soft fingers began tugging at his clothing, who was he to refuse?

Pale digits tangled themselves in his hair while he undressed, and he made the twists and turns possible to avoid inconveniencing Ryou's hold. This was a terrible idea. He was still technically working, he was not usually a silent lover, and Malik just somehow had the feeling that this was going to end badly. He wasn't going to stop, though. The close quarters contact forced by the size of the room simply gave him further reason to remove his clothes.

" _Mmph…_ " Ryou moaned into his ear.

Malik asked himself, _How am I supposed to compete against that_? He couldn't. He wouldn't.

And then Ryou's shirt was going up over his head and Malik's tongue was everywhere that it could reach. Pinned against the drawers, Ryou could do nothing but endure the attack for the time being. He was still holding his shirt, and Malik was reluctant to even spare him a moment to throw it atop the cabinet nearby, with his own clothes. The jeans were removed soon after, and Malik wished he could have seen Ryou in better light, maybe even taken a picture—posing against the cabinets seemed like quite the fashionable idea for some odd reason.

Was it just him, or did he have the strangest thoughts when he was turned on?

Mouths opened and their tongues were twisting again. Ryou whimpered a little, hands tugging Malik's hair in to express himself and keep quiet. Malik's hands had traveled elsewhere, stroking soft hips, his erection pressing against Ryou's thigh. Pushing Ryou further against the cabinet, he heard the metal shake as their combined weight leaned against it. Malik's thoughts were swirling as his hands roamed across Ryou's body, touching the right places. He lingered just long enough to drive Ryou crazy with the ease of a person who had done it a hundred times.

_Not a good idea. What time is it? Maybe Ishizu went on her fucking lunch break._

Outside, the phone began to ring. Malik swore, and began to back away from Ryou. He couldn't ignore it.

He felt, more than saw, Ryou's head snap in his direction. "…you can't leave me…!" he hissed, mostly sad but with a modicum of irritation.

But Malik was already trying to think his erection away, fitting one of his legs through his trousers. Even if he missed that call, he couldn't just leave the desk unattended. What if one of Ishizu's appointments were on their way? They'd be caught.

"I'll be right back, I promise," he told Ryou.

By the time he'd gotten outside, he'd missed the call and the return call, and he must have looked like shit.

 _Fuck it, then_.

He climbed the set of three steps that would bring him to Ishizu's office. The door was closed; good. He opened it just enough for her to be able to see his face, and his shook out his hair, running his fingers through it so that it would at least appear a little closer to normal.

"Izu," he said loudly. She was on the phone, however, and this was confirmed by her pointing to it, not even bothering to turn in his direction.

Even better. "Going to lunch. Back later."

She nodded her approval, and he backed out again, closing the door as quietly as possible. He awkwardly sprinted back to the file room, nearly kicking his trousers off as he reached the door. Not being with Ryou had taken a larger toll on him than he'd thought it would.

Nothing was right in the world until they were fucking.

That was exaggerating, of course, but he couldn't lie about how good it felt. He was still listening for sounds in the lobby beyond, but that was difficult to do when he was buried into the closest approximation to Heaven that he could think of. Palms pressed were against the back of Ryou's hands, lips planting kisses on the back of his neck despite the moisture gathering there, white strands sticking due to their body heat.

Malik's thrusts were slow and paced as he claimed Ryou from behind; he couldn't afford the loud rattle of the cabinet. Ryou was doing a good job at keeping quiet, which wasn't a normal quality of his, and Malik was proud. The slow thrusts were killing them both, though. Just a little longer and—

Ryou's hips began pushing back against him—hard—and Malik had to pause, body shuddering in a sudden episode of bliss. "You can't keep doing that," he whispered in Ryou's ear, capturing the lobe in his mouth and tugging lightly with his teeth.

"…but I thought you _liked_ that sort of thing."

Surprised gripped him, and for more than a few moments Malik stopped moving.

His breathing was still labored, though, and his voice was faint when he said, "I—I hate it when you do that—this."

Malik had a lot of other things to say, most of which involved swearing, but he had been too bewildered to utter any of them. He continued to be still, although he could tell that his body was fast rejecting that decision.

Bakura pushed back onto him a second time, and that started the ebb and flow of their movements again. "…I couldn't have you any other way, could I? You …rejected me."

"I hate you."

"I love you," Bakura spat, the words as venomous as anything he'd ever said.

The cabinet was becoming a bit louder in response to their increased pace, and the spirit of the Ring shifted abruptly, moving to his right, taking Malik with him. His back was now poised on the small expanse of wall between the door and the cabinet. No noise.

"Now…" Bakura trailed off, implying that they should continue.

As much as Malik wanted to simply remove himself and be done, he was too close, much too close to do so without extreme discomfort. There was no chance of him being turned off: this was still Ryou's body, still Ryou's moist insides clinging to his flesh; still Ryou's slender fingers and arching back…

" _Ahhh…_ " he heard Bakura sigh contentedly, and it was the most disgusting thing he'd ever heard. "Don't worry," Bakura let loose a breathy chuckle. "…Ryou can still _feel_ you." Malik knew this already and it was another thing that spurred him on.

His pace was much faster now—he wanted to finish and be done with it. Bakura was more feral than Ryou: a growl instead of a moan, hissing instead of whimpering, teeth clenching instead of biting his lip. Bakura's face was pressed to the wall, hands atop Malik's, nails biting into his skin, hips trying to devour his own, the curve of his back begging for abuse.

Malik wished he could say he thought only of Ryou.

It wasn't until his own climax that he realized how unprepared he'd been. The bathroom was only a few steps away, but those few steps would be quite messy. He hadn't thought this through, not that Bakura seemed to care. Malik's body was reacted the same way that it did with Ryou: a jarring tremble coursing all over his body to let him know that he was coming _very soon_ and there was nothing that he could do about it.

But Bakura knew him—and Ryou knew him—hips pulling away from him just at the last moment, turning and kneeling in one smooth motion. Hands gripped him, then Bakura's mouth was taking him in, nurturing his orgasm. Malik closed his eyes, his finish effortless, still leaning against the wall as he continued to shake, waiting for himself to settle down.

When Bakura stood up again, he looked satisfied, that smirk on his face that he always wore. " _Ah_ ," he sighed, licking his lips, and Malik didn't at all like how satisfied he sounded. "Didn't you like that?"

Malik was breathing too hard to answer, but he knew that Bakura would assume the answer he wanted to hear regardless.

"I suppose that I should reward you for your obedience."

" _Ha_ ," Malik managed, still looking away.

Then—

"Malik, I'm _so_ sorry!"

Ryou.

His white haired lover embraced him, peppering kisses on Malik's neck—a welcome feeling, such tender sensations—and Malik sighed happily. At least Bakura would leave him alone. Ryou began to babble, apologized for not being able to stop Bakura from taking him over, for not being able to control him; said he felt awful—Malik shushed him, and he accepted more soft kisses as reparation, holding Ryou close, brushing his tears away.

At least Bakura hadn't been completely selfish. It wasn't too late. Malik could still do his job; could still make Ryou forget.

It was his turn to sink down to his knees and this time, Ryou's back was braced against the wall, hands once again tangled in Malik's hair, gripping tightly, his soft noises alone enough to make Malik's body temperature rise. Ryou couldn't stop his hips from moving, and Malik had to hold them down, trying not to smile at his lover's zeal. He leaned back from between Ryou's legs to sigh, "I love you…"

" _Always… I love…_ " Ryou panted back, voice fading, biting his lip. It was so adorable.

The grip on Malik's hair tightened to the point of pain—but he didn't mind. Malik's tongue was moving, now, teasing Ryou's tip in tandem with his lips' movements and he knew that Ryou _loved_ it when he did that.

"Please… _please…_ "

Malik could do nothing more than give the man he loved what he wanted, and when Ryou came it was smooth and easy, not hard and sudden like with Bakura. Ryou's hips bucked several times, moans falling from his lips. He began to slide down the wall a bit, and Malik feared he wouldn't be able swallow and stand quickly enough to hold Ryou. Malik moaned a bit himself, hot breath smothering Ryou and causing more tremors, and it was then that he stood and cradled the other man in his arms, chin fitting nicely into its natural place in the crook of Ryou's neck.

Ryou leaned on him heavily, panting, body still occasionally shuddering. Part of him worried that when he pulled back Bakura's face was going to greet him, sharp eyes mocking and razored tongue laying into him with harsh words.

Ryou was still there when he looked, and he was grateful.

They were slow to dress, exchanging as many kisses along the way as possible—Malik was expecting him to change any minute, and Ryou needed to know he was loved. When they both had clothes on Malik had enough courage to flip the light switch and they embraced against the cabinets one final time. Ryou's blush was still there, all over his face, and Malik thought it was adorable.

"You're going to get fired," he whispered as Malik approached the door to open it. "Your sister's going to know."

"She'll be fine if you don't give it away," Malik reassured him.

Ryou looked confused for a moment, as though he wasn't quite sure what to do next. Malik stepped out of the room first, pulling Ryou behind him. And then it hit him—did Ryou even know how to get home from here?

"I—I guess I'll go," Ryou said timidly, reaching to plant one more kiss on Malik's lips. "Your hair looks awful," he giggled after.

"I'll fix it."

Ryou frowned. "…it was nice seeing you. I'm glad that you were in town."

Malik's expression echoed Ryou's. "I've only been back in Domino since last night. I was going to set up a date with you after work today, but…"

Ryou tried to shrug off the awkwardness. "…it's alright. We can… we can do something tomorrow, since I've already seen you, okay?"

Malik couldn't help but smile. "I love you." Ryou's optimism was something that he loved, too.

The blush somehow became a deeper shade of red. "I—I love you, too." Ryou turned to leave. Malik wanted to ask if he needed help, but he knew that Ryou would refuse it anyway.

"I'm here for the month." Malik didn't want Ryou to leave yet, but there was nothing he could do other than extend their conversation. He still had a few minutes left for lunch, but not enough to actually _go_ and get lunch. "Stop by anytime, okay? Just call. We can grab a bite."

Ryou didn't turn around, still striding towards the door. It was a raspy voice that answered.

" _Will_ do, now that I know how to make an _appointment…_ "

**Author's Note:**

> Edited/Updated: 01/08/12.  
> Original commentary below.
> 
> Tons of stuff going on with this.
> 
> First of all, I'm unsure of why I used "Malik" here instead of my usual "Marik". His name actually is Marik, and FYI, Malik is just a fan interpretation of his 'hikari-side' name, as much as I hate to hear it that way. Some people got together one day and figured that because Marik was spelled with an 'r' in Japanese it had to be an 'l' in English, but that's not true. He's "Marik" in both languages. (The more you know.)
> 
> Secondly, this fic is dedicated to LadyBlackwell. I'm in love with her.
> 
> Thirdly, I'm not sure why my characterizations for this were so different than usual. Marik (or Malik, for the purposes of this story) was a bit closer to what I've come to see as "normal" for him. He was still a functional!Malik, which is what I like, but despite his outward aggression he was more bark than bite. Ryou was a bit more girly in this, but Bakura was also a bit more overbearing, so I guess that's my explanation for it?
> 
> This fic originated from a single post in the YGO fanfiction contest forums concerning "Sexy secretary Malik". ...and then I saw it and it spiraled into this. It was supposed to be a drabble, but...no such luck.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, please, R&R!
> 
> Ciao!


End file.
